


let our hearts open wide

by leothelioness333



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kanera Week 2020, Love Languages, Rescue Missions, Show of Support, Stolen Moments, making each other laugh, patching up wounds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26226922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leothelioness333/pseuds/leothelioness333
Summary: He wondered how it was possible that he could feel more anchored to one person than anything else, even the Force.A collection of oneshots following the prompts for Kanera Week 2020.
Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 16
Kudos: 71
Collections: Kanera Week 2020





	1. Day 1: stolen moments // making each other laugh

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! 
> 
> So I finished watching Rebels for the first time just over a week ago, and it was honestly the best decision. It was incredible, I loved it so much, and I fell in love with Hera and Kanan's relationship. I am still very sad, and figured the best remedy would to immerse myself in this fandom and participate in this lovely celebration week for these two!
> 
> This is my first time writing for these two, and it's just been a while since I've written anything for SW in general, so still trying to find my rhythm a bit here. I also have not read A New Dawn yet (though it's next on my list), so I don't know all the details about Hera and Kanan meet yet, but I know they meet on Gorse, and the first part of this fic is set 2ish years after they first meet.
> 
> Title taken from Sleeping at Last's song "North".
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

Hera had just stepped out of the ‘fresher when she heard the ramp of the _Ghost_ open, signaling Kanan and Chopper were back.

She’d sent the two of them on a much needed supply run after the bickering started getting out of control. She swore Kanan damn near _pouted_ when she told him she wanted some peace and quiet while she finished cleaning the ventilation system and running manual diagnostics on the hyperdrive.

She ran weekly diagnostics on the _Ghost_ , of course, but every month she liked to do a full walkthrough and cleaning. They were currently between missions for Fulcrum, which meant it was time to pick up their own supplies to restock the ship.

She quickly pulled on her basic undergarments, followed by a pair of leggings and a dark blue long-sleeved shirt. She wrapped her lekku in a similar dark blue scarf, tugged on some socks, and made her way to the main cargo bay just as Chopper started warbling the same time Kanan started scolding him.

“What took you guys so lo—?” Hera stopped, staring at Kanan over the railing.

He had swiveled around to look up at her, Chopper’s dome rotating similarly in her direction.

“I can explain,” Kanan said, lifting his arms.

The two of them were covered in mud, though Kanan definitely more so. There were new crates in the bay, so the supply run had been successful. But clearly something had gone wrong along the way, which wasn’t highly unusual for them.

Hera crossed her arms across the railing, lips twitching into a smile. It faltered, though, as she took a closer at Kanan. “Is that— _meiloorun_ in your hair?”

Kanan exhaled, “Yes. There was an _incident_ at the market.”

“Clearly,”

“A group of thugs were parading through the market, and they went after the guy we were picking the caf and ration bars from. And then _Chopper here_ ,” Kanan glared at the astromech, “shoved me right into them, and then other people started getting involved, and there may have been some rolling around in the mud, and—” He cut off, pointing up at her. Hera could tell the gesture was meant to be stern, but it was softened by the twinkle in his blue-green eyes. “Don’t laugh at me.”

Hera gave a little shake of her head, pressing her lips together to stifle a giggle. “I would never.”

A beat of silence, and then a laugh was bubbling past her lips, the tips of her lekku curling slightly with glee as they fell forward.

Kanan’s own face cracked into a wide grin, shoulders slumping as he relented.

“You weren’t followed, were you?” she asked suddenly. It wasn’t easy to shut off the responsible part of her brain, even though she figured Kanan or Chopper would’ve said something by now if they were in any danger.

“No,” Kanan replied, easing her worries as he closed the _Ghost’s_ ramp. “A few Imps came to investigate, but we had slipped into the crowd before they could identify us.”

Hera raised an eyebrow knowingly. “And the locals?”

Kanan rubbed the back of his head, wrinkling his nose. “I mean I definitely wouldn’t go back to that specific market any time soon, but no one followed us. Promise.”

Hera trusted his instincts and his awareness enough that she let herself relax. “So, how exactly did you get meiloorun in your hair?”

Chopper waved an arm, poking it at the back of Kanan’s legs as he blurted an answer in binary.

“A _food fight_?” Hera asked. “Kanan—”

“ _Hey_ ,” Kanan protested, dodging out of Chopper’s way as the astromech tried to take him out at the back of his knees. “It wasn’t a food fight—I mean, okay. There was a small food fight after the mud. But Chopper started that too.”

 _WAP,_ Chopper bleeped out a loud protest.

“Oh, yes you did,” Kanan insisted, “You threw the first melon.” He hopped lithely on top of one of the crates to dodge Chopper.

“Chop,” Hera chided, watching the two of them with much more fondness than she should have, considering her loyal droid was trying to kill Kanan. “Knock it off. Finish cataloging the crates and then I’ll help make sure there’s no mud in your circuits.”

Chopper grumbled loudly but rolled away from the crate Kanan was still perched on.

“ _Kriff_ ,” Kanan swore softly, “cross-wired little menace.”

Hera watched as Chop’s dome rotated in Kanan’s direction. The droid didn’t have eyes but if looks could kill, Kanan would be dead a hundred times over by now.

But before Chopper could end Kanan for good this time, her second was already off the crate and climbing up the ladder towards her.

Hera leaned against the rail as Kanan joined her on the walkway, giving him a smile. “This is why he tries to murder you.”

Kanan copied her stance, leaning a hip against the railing, folding his arms over his chest. “Because I call him cross-wired? I’m only stating facts.” His face was streaked with mud, the earthy smell mingling with the sweet scent of meiloorun. He gave her a crooked smile that had her heart doing flips in her chest.

“Maybe he’s a _little_ cross-wired at times,” Hera admitted, knowing just how much of a handful her droid could be. “But you should be used to it by now.”

“Oh, I am,” Kanan chuckled. “Learning how Chopper operates is the only thing that saved me from getting shoved out the airlock ages ago.”

Hera laughed. Kanan’s features softened, eyes twinkling with immense fondness as he watched her. She could feel herself flush just a little. After all the time they’d known each other, and the time they’d been together, intimately, it still knocked the breath out of her sometimes, the way he looked at her. Like she’d hung each star in the galaxy, stitching together the vast celestial map that had led him straight to her.

With a fond smile of her own, she reached up and picked a small bit of fruit out of his hair. “Don’t suppose any meilooruns survived the food fight, did they?”

“Actually,” Kanan started, swinging around the satchel he had slung across his body. He reached inside and pulled out one, slightly bruised, melon. Kanan grinned. “I managed to salvage one.”

Hera beamed at him, “Oh, you are the _best—_ ” she plucked the fruit from his palm and leaned forward to hug him, before stopping in her tracks. “On second thought.”

“Oh, come on, Hera,” Kanan protested, spreading his arms wide, exposing his mud streaked sweater. His features lit up mischievously. “No hug?”

Hera cradled the meiloorun to her chest, taking another step back. “Not until you’ve showered.”

“That’s a great idea.” Kanan took a teasing step towards her, eyes bright. “You can join me.”

“Nice try, but I just got out of the ‘fresher.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe if you’d brought me _two_ meilooruns—”

She didn’t sidestep quick enough around him, and suddenly his arms were around her. “ _Kanan!_ ”

But her protest broke off into another peal of laughter, the meiloorun still trapped in her hands between them. Kanan pressed a kiss to her cheek and then trailed down to her neck, surely leaving traces of dirt in his wake.

Kanan was laughing too, the noise rumbling from his chest. His hands slid around her waist as he pulled back to look at her. His bemused, and slightly triumphant expression told Hera that he had _definitely_ given her a few dirt streaks of her own.

“So, what was that you were saying about the ‘fresher?”

_Oh, the nerve of him—_

“Kanan Jarrus, you are in _so_ much trouble—”

He was already dancing away from her, light on his feet as he headed towards the washroom. Hera resisted the urge to throw her one good meiloorun at his head.

Kanan just gave her a dashing smile that made her heart stutter in her chest, giving her no choice but to follow.

-:-

_Years Later_

Hera was logging the inventory when Kanan poked his head into the storage room.

“Kids’ are gone. Chopper, too.”

She looked up from her datapad. There had been no alarm in his voice, so clearly nothing was wrong with the kids. Hera gave him a look. “What did you do?”

Kanan stepped further into the room, stopping no more than six inches from her. The corners of his mouth tugged up into a half smile. “I didn’t kick them off the ship, if that’s what you’re saying,” he defended lightly, carefully pulling her datapad from her hands and setting it on a nearby crate. “But I may have sent them to the spaceport to pick up some supplies, including caf, since I know we’re low. And I may have told them to keep an eye out for some meilooruns, too.”

Hera rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as Kanan grasped her hands, pulling her to his chest. “We sent Ezra and Zeb on a wild meiloorun chase barely a month ago.”

“And they still came back with one, didn’t they? This is a win-win situation. The kids pick up the supplies we need, you and I get some alone time, and you get your favorite fruit to top it all off.”

Hera leaned up and placed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. “We still need to come up with a better excuse.”

“Well,” Kanan’s voice lowered, one hand squeezing her hip lightly, the other reaching up to stroke a couple fingers down the length of one lek. Hera shivered at his touch, her own fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater. “We can head up top and I’m sure I could inspire you.”

Hera groaned, swatting his shoulder lightly. “Kanan Jarrus, that was _terrible._ ”

“I know.” He was laughing, body shaking with it, and pretty soon she was laughing too, head falling against his shoulder.

Then Kanan’s fingers were brushing against her jaw, tipping her chin up so he could press his mouth to hers. Hera melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him ever closer.

Kanan started stroking one lek again, backing her up against one of the grates gently, but insistently. She tugged out his hair tie so she could run her fingers through the silky strands. Then, hands trailing to the clasps of her armor, he kissed her until she was breathless.

She decided then that Kanan could bribe her with the promise of meilooruns any time he wanted.


	2. Day 2: undercover // rescue missions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It had been a while since they’d done a deep cover mission like this, and Hera should’ve known it was only a matter of time before patience dissolved into worry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely feedback on Day 1 so far! This fandom has been really wonderful, and I want you guys to know I'm really happy to be able to write for these two and share some of the love!
> 
> I wasn't sure if I was going to post these all as separate one-shots, but I decided that I didn't want to come up with any more fic titles lol, so we're going with a multi-chapter one-shot collection instead. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Hera considered herself to be pretty patient. But it had been a while since they’d done a deep cover mission like this, and she should’ve known it was only a matter of time before patience dissolved into worry.

She, Zeb, and Chopper were on overwatch, left waiting each day for Kanan’s signal. They’d intercepted some intel that a group of slave laborers was being sent from Wobani to Lothal, to help with the production of TIE fighters at the factories on Ezra’s home planet. Their intel hadn’t been complete, so they were only sure that a couple shipments of prisoners were being made. So, Sabine had created covers for her, Kanan, and Ezra as maintenance workers in the main labor camp.

Though rescuing a couple transports of prisoners wouldn’t stop the TIE production on Lothal completely, every little bit counted.

In the first week, Kanan had sent her and Zeb information about two smaller groups of laborers that were being moved. They’d intercepted the ships once they were in orbit, boarded and taken out any Stormtroopers, and dropped the prisoners in the nearest safe system.

They may have called the job finished then, but Kanan informed here that there was one more larger group of prisoners being moved. They all knew the Empire would be more cautious now, but it had been nearly three more standard weeks with no more than the usual, _“No new intel,”_ from Kanan.

At first, Hera didn’t mind that the _Ghost_ was a little quieter. Sure, Zeb and Chopper bickered enough to give some sense of normalcy. But three weeks docked on a nearby asteroid had given her plenty of time to run through manual maintenance checks of the _Ghost_ and have Zeb help her clean every nook and cranny they could reach until the ship was practically sparkling.

But now they were going into their second day of silence from Kanan. He normally checked in every day. She, Kanan, and the rest of the Spectres had set up a system of protocols and secret codes ages ago for missions like this. Two days with no word was not that unusual, but still. Hera could feel the worry starting to fray at her nerves.

She thought she’d been doing a good job of hiding it until Zeb ambled into the cockpit and placed a paw on her shoulder. She kept her gaze forward, staring at the stars and distant planetary mass of Wobani through the transparisteel viewport.

“They’re gonna be all right,” Zeb reassured. “Kanan said we might run into radio silence when they were close to this final extraction.”

“I know,” Hera replied, recognizing Zeb was right. Still, _knowing_ and _feeling_ were two different things. And though she knew what the parameters of the mission were, knew that there were risks involved every time they entered hostile territory, she could still feel her worry niggling at the back of her skull. Her chest felt tight anytime she considered the possibility that they had been caught, blasted on sight, and she would never see that half of her family again.

But like he could sense her worry miles away, the comm light on the control panel flashed, and Kanan’s voice crackled over the channel, “ _Spectre 1 to Spectre 2, you copy?_ ”

Zeb squeezed her shoulder briefly and she could practically hear the Lasat grinning as she leaned forward in the pilot’s chair. Relief flooded into her voice as she pressed the button to reply, “Spectre 2 to Spectre 1, I copy. What’s your ETA?”

“ _Transport leaves at the top of the hour with fifty prisoners. We’ve got a plan to sneak onboard, and from there we’ll take care of any Imps and fly away nice and quiet.”_

“Copy that, Spectre 1,” she said over the comms, already mentally preparing for the _nice and quiet_ get away to go horribly wrong. “Spectres 5 and 6?”

“ _They’re ready to come home._ ” There was the briefest pause, then, a little softer, “ _And so am I._ ”

Hera faintly registered the sound of Zeb exiting the cockpit. Mostly, she just kept turning the word _home_ over and over again in her head. It took her a moment to realize that while he probably meant the _Ghost_ as home for the kids, when Kanan talked about home for himself…he meant _her_.

She lifted her head to stare out the viewport again, like she could see all the way to wherever he was on the planet. Gently, she spoke into the comm, “Soon, love. Let’s get you and the kids out of there safe first, copy?”

“ _Copy, Captain. See you soon._ ”

-:-

Their plan to commandeer the prison transport turned into a not-so-quiet hijacking that alerted every Stormtrooper in their sector of the prison camp and resulted in half a dozen TIEs following them into the atmosphere.

The transport ship had no guns, so Kanan could only anchor himself to the Force and hope it was enough to keep them flying long enough until Hera showed up.

“Sabine, get ready with the airlock!” he shouted over his shoulder, yanking on the control yoke, and pulling the transport high, out of the barrage of fire aimed for their right flank.

There were shouts of protest from the back at the sudden movement.

“A little warning next time!” Ezra shouted from the back.

“Kinda busy flyin’ here, kid!” Kanan plunged the ship into a dive, aiming for the dust cloud ringing the planet, hoping to confuse the TIE pilots on their tail.

Plunging into the dust cloud, his visibility quickly diminished. Kanan opened himself to the Force, using it to guide him around the bits of debris and small asteroids caught up in the storm. Gunning the ship forward, he squeezed in between two asteroids. He sensed, rather than saw, one of the pursuing TIES try the same maneuver, only to get crushed between the two rocks.

“Nice!” Ezra whooped from the back of the transport where he was looking out the rear viewport. “There’s at least one more on us, but I’m not sure about the rest…”

Kana agreed, though he was too busy focusing on what he was doing to voice it. He was pretty sure a couple of the TIEs had stayed back, out of the dust storm, waiting for their transport to emerge. But if they could knock at least one more out of the sky, it would be a start.

Sabine’s voice sounded, “Ready with the airlock, Kanan.”

He vaguely registered Sabine calling Hera over their comm channel, updating her on where they would be. He’d hit a thinner patch in the dust, which meant he could see the path forward better, but it also gave the other pursuing TIE a chance to catch up. Reaching into the Force, Kanan sensed there was less debris in front of them. But directly above them, higher up into the dust cloud, an asteroid, much larger than the other two from before.

He wasn’t the pilot Hera was, but he could pull this off. He _had_ to. Even with the less agile transport ship. “Hang on tight back there, this is gonna be close!”

He took a breath, sinking into the feeling of the Force flowing through him. He pulled the ship up tightly. The transport groaned at the sudden shift in angle, but it followed his commands, hurtling straight for the asteroid that he could only kind of see with his own eyes. _Closer…just a little bit more…_

“Uh, Kanan?” Ezra’s concerned voice floated up from the back.

 _Bank now_ , the Force urged him and Kanan listened. Yanking on the control yoke, he banked hard to the left, then back to the right, placing the asteroid right in between him and the TIE fighter.

He felt the briefest shudder at the back of the ship as the Imperial fighter crashed into the rock and exploded.

He grinned as both Sabine and Ezra cheered.

The victory was short-lived though, as Kanan shot out of the dust storm, and into the waiting wings of the other four TIEs.

“ _Shit_ ,” he muttered to himself. Just once, it would have been nice had things gone according to plan so he wasn’t flying two of his kids and fifty other souls in a weaponless transport into the jaws of trigger-happy Imperial pilots. _Hera, where are you?_

Then, as if on cue, the _Ghost_ emerged from the other side of the planet. Kanan answered his beeping comm, something in his chest soothing at the sound of her voice, “ _Sorry I’m late, love. Ran into a couple TIEs on my way over. Friends of yours, I presume?”_

Kanan chuckled. “Something like that.” He rolled the transport to the side, trying to avoid two of the fighters streaking his way. “I’ve got a couple more you can help yourself to.”

She didn’t respond, but in the distance Kanan saw the top turret of the _Ghost_ spin, blaster fire streaking forward and pulverizing one, then two of the TIEs racing towards him.

That left two more. Kanan shot for the _Ghost_ , the fighters quickly following in his wake. Once the _Ghost_ was nearly on top of him, he tilted the nose of the transport down, diving underneath the belly of the ship as Hera piloted forward, putting the final TIEs in the path of the guns.

A few short blasts and the Imperial fighters became nothing more than dust and debris, like the cloud circling Wobani.

Kanan breathed a sigh of relief, slowing his speed and bringing the transport around to the _Ghost’s_ port side. “Bring us home, Sabine,”

-:-

They’d barely finished docking to the _Ghost_ when a Star Destroyer and light cruiser emerged out of hyperspace. But Kanan sat back, watching the blue light of hyperspace fill the stolen transport’s viewport as Hera launched them away from the occupied planet, surely leaving the Imperials cursing the escaped rebels.

Once the ship had steadied, Kanan, followed by Ezra and Sabine, opened the airlock and stepped onto the _Ghost_. Kanan took in a deep breath of the ship’s recycled air, and he swore he’d never smelled anything better. After almost a standard month in the mud and gloom of Wobani, it felt damn good to be back on familiar ground.

It felt even better when he spotted Hera coming down the ladder to join them in the main bay. Seeing her in person, not just over a holo or comms, nearly took him out at the knees. His heart thumped nearly painfully in his chest, and he wondered how it was possible that he could feel more anchored to one person than anything else, even the Force.

Even after all the time they’d been together since Gorse, he thought maybe it should scare him, how much of an effect she had on him. But truthfully, he never felt more brave than when he was by her side.

Kanan stayed off to the side, watching as Hera greeted Ezra and Sabine. She ran a hand through Sabine’s hair briefly, squeezed Ezra’s shoulder, and the way that the kids beamed told Kanan they’d missed Hera just as much as she’d missed them.

There would be more time to catch up later, Kanan knew. But for now, Hera ordered Ezra and Zeb to get the rescued prisoners water and some ration bars, while Sabine spoke to them about what the safest ports would be to drop them. Hera would surely give each of them the option to join the cause, but that would happen later too.

Hera’s head lifted and she met his eyes. Kanan was exhausted and in desperate need of a shower and change of clothes. But all of that was momentarily forgotten as Hera made her way over to him.

Stopping in front of him, she folded her arms over her chest and tilted her head in a familiar scolding look. But there was no anger behind it, just a teasing lilt to her voice— _kriff, it was good to hear her voice in person—_ as she said, “Nice and quiet, huh?”

Kanan gave a low chuckle and ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Okay, so things didn’t go _exactly_ according to plan.”

“When do they ever?” She smiled slowly, and Kanan could feel her relief permeating through the Force.

He returned her smile, reaching out to touch her arm, grounding himself to her. “Thank you for saving our skins back there.”

Hera reached up to cup his face, thumb brushing over his cheek. Kanan leaned into her touch, feeling more at peace than he had in weeks. Her green eyes were bright, voice low, words meant just for him, as she said, “Welcome home.”


	3. Day 3: love languages // show of support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This Rebellion wouldn’t be what it is without you.”  
> “Well,” she started, “I wouldn’t have gotten very far without you watching my back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a day late because this ended up being a little longer than expected? I was hoping to get caught up and maybe be able to post the Day 4 prompt as well, but that one is also turning out a bit longer, so that will hopefully be going up tomorrow!
> 
> I really love how much Hera and Kanan support each other and look out for each other, so it was really fun to write this one. Also, I ADORE that Hera canonically calls him "love" and "dear", like wow, okay Rebels writers, way to come for my heart like that. So, honestly, any excuse to put their canon love language in makes me happy as well. 
> 
> Enjoy!

After two standard weeks of being on the go, non-stop, Hera was drained.

One of the smaller Rebel cells in their system had gotten pinned down by an Imperial blockade, so Hera and the rest of the Spectres had been sent in with part of Phoenix Squadron to get them out. Getting though Imperial blockades was always difficult and required her absolute best flying. After that, they’d taken a couple missions to deliver supplies to various Imperial occupied planets nearby. And then, the last couple days had involved racing to as many supply depots as they could in search for medical supplies, since there had been an error with the counts and Yavin Base was incredibly low.

Hera loved flying and was used to doing it for long periods of time. But now that she played a key role in their larger Rebellion, she couldn’t just fly and be done. She had mission debriefings to attend, trainings to give for Phoenix Squadron, and a million other little things in-between.

She wasn’t even sure the last time she’d sat down for a proper meal—there had been a lot of caf and ration bars in her diet as of late—and she knew for sure she hadn’t been getting enough sleep. She was exhausted. But after all the flying she’d done recently, the _Ghost_ was sorely in need of some attention, which meant a bit more work until she could rest.

After leaving her latest mission debriefing with Mon Mothma, Bail Organa, and a couple other Rebel leaders, Hera found Kanan standing next to her ship.

“Hi, love,” she greeted, failing to keep the exhaustion from her voice entirely.

Kanan’s head tilted in her direction, a soft smile gracing his face. “Hi.”

Her brow furrowed as it dawned that Kanan had clearly been waiting for her. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no.” A little shake of his head before he reached for her, pulling her to him. “Just waiting for you, is all.”

Hera peered up at his mask, gaze tracing over the jaig eyes Sabine had painted on there for him after Malachor. “Just waiting,” she repeated. Maybe it was the exhaustion, but something just wasn’t clicking. “Why?”

His lips twitched, like he found the question funny. “Do I need a reason?”

Hera blinked. “No—I just mean that we have things to do, and—are you laughing at me?”

Kanan’s mouth had pulled into a smile, “Never,” he chuckled, the noise low in his throat. With the way he had her tucked against him, hands resting loosely on her hips, she could feel the laugh in her chest. Before she could ask what he found so kriffing funny, he spoke again. “Come on.”

He slipped a hand into hers and guided her up the ramp of the _Ghost_. Hera followed, briefly noting that she hadn’t seen any of the other Spectres around. In fact, the _Ghost_ was strangely silent. She couldn’t even hear Chopper rolling around or grumbling about.

She trailed Kanan up the ladder towards the living quarters. He pulled her to a stop in the hallway between their two bunks—though nowadays, Kanan hardly used his room, because he was sharing hers instead.

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

At the same time Kanan said, “I have something for you.”

Hera’s brows pulled together for a moment in confusion, before his sentence clicked together in her head. She put a hand on her hip. “Kanan Jarrus, how many times have a I told you we don’t have enough credits for you to just—”

“Go around buying presents for you,” he finished, that damn smile of his coming back. “I know. I remember the rules—no presents. This is a practical item, trust me.”

He squeezed her upper arm lightly in a gesture that told her to wait while he went into his room. A minute later he emerged, one hand behind his back, keeping whatever he had a surprise.

“Close your eyes.”

Hera sighed slightly through her nose but did as he asked. Her eyes fell shut. She felt Kanan’s free hand wrap around her own gloved one, and then a small item was being placed in her palm. It wasn’t terribly heavy, but it wasn’t light either.

“Are you going to make me guess?” she asked. Though she couldn’t see him with her eyes shut, she could feel the warmth of his body, could feel his presence no more than a foot away from her. It wasn’t the first time she’d realized that this was everyday life for Kanan now without his sight.

“No,” Kanan said quietly, breaking her from her thoughts. “You can open now.”

Hera blinked slowly, eyes landing first on Kanan’s mask-covered face, and then falling down to the object in her hands. It was a clear bottle with a metal screw-top, with no other discernable markings, like it had been mass-produced. Or purchased locally, and bottled with whatever materials were available. And she was thinking it was maybe the latter as she looked at the purplish-blue substance inside.

“Is this—?” she didn’t even bother finishing her sentence as she unscrewed the top and brought the bottle to her nose, inhaling deeply.

“Actual liquid soap scented with honeyblossom and purple passion? Yes.” Kanan replied. “It’s soap, so it’s practical. But I thought you deserved something a little nicer than the standard-issue Alliance soap bars.”

Hera’s inhaled the sweet and calming scent of the liquid soap one more time before replacing the cap. She reached up a gloved hand to cup Kanan’s face, thumb brushing his cheek right below the edge of his mask. He reached up to place his hand over hers, fingers trailing down to circle her wrist, before her arm dropped back down to her side. Still, he didn’t let go.

“Thank you,” she told him. “I love it. I can’t wait to use it later.”

Without missing a beat, Kanan said, “How about now?”

She bit her lip, thinking about her list of to-dos. A shower and a little down time sounded incredible, but…

“In answer to your earlier question,” Kanan continued, stepping further into her space, both hands trailing up and down her arms in a soothing motion. “Zeb is with Kallus, I think putting together data on Imperial protocols to share with Rebel cells, in hopes that it will help others to avoid the Empire as much as possible.”

“And the kids?”

“The kids and Chopper took the _Phantom II_ on a short reconnaissance mission to Botajef. They’re going to scope out the shipyards there, see if it’s worth it to set up a salvaging mission. I had Wedge go with them as extra backup.”

Hera rested her hands against Kanan’s chest, the one still curled around the bottle of soap, tipping her chin up at him. “I need Wedge here for Phoenix Squad training later.”

Kanan gave a little shake of his head. “Not anymore. I informed the deck officers—and the rest of Phoenix Squad—training was moved to tomorrow morning.”

“ _Kanan_ ,” she protested, but it didn’t come out nearly as sharp as she’d wanted. “I wish you’d asked me first, but I guess that gives me more time to work on the _Ghost_ —”

“No, it gives you time to _relax_ ,” Kanan insisted gently, hands sliding to rest on her hips. “You’ve worked really hard the last couple weeks. We’re in-between missions, and the galaxy will not implode if you take one afternoon for yourself.”

“I know that,” she argued. “But I’m fine, I promise. The _Ghost_ really needs a manual diagnostic run—”

“Already done.”

She blinked. “Okay, but the hyperdrive—”

“I got Chopper to do a systems check on it this morning. It took a couple tries, and he did zap me once, but I got him to cooperate.”

Hera huffed out the smallest laugh. Yep, that sounded like her droid.

“And,” Kanan pressed on, “before you can ask, Ezra and Sabine cleaned the viewport and scrubbed any carbon residue they could find building up. Zeb took inventory and she’s all fueled up and ready to go when you need her next.”

Hera didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t like the rest of the crew didn’t help out. The _Ghost_ belonged to them too, and they did what it took to keep the ship running smoothly. But she was so used to leading, of taking care of everyone else around her, that it was hard for her to handle when it was the other way around. 

“Kanan,” she said his name slowly. She wanted to follow his lead, take the time for herself to recuperate. Despite how exhausted she was, it was so hard to turn the Captain part of her brain off. “I don’t—you didn’t need to do all this for me.”

He gave a little shrug. “I know. But I wanted to. Hera,” he licked his lips, and she could feel his hands squeeze her hips just so, “you know how proud I am of you, right? Everything you’ve done for the Rebellion, everything you’ve done for _us_ , our little family—it still amazes me. Every single day. But you’re no good to the Rebellion if you’re dead on your feet.”

Maybe he had a point. For so long now, the Rebellion had been her sole focus. She dedicated her entire being to the cause, in hopes of protecting her family, or creating a better future for them. But it wouldn’t matter much if she ran herself into the ground before she could see all this through.

Exhaling slowly, letting her shoulders relax, she relented, “You’re right.”

Kanan’s face split into a grin. “Say that again?”

Hera poked his chest firmly, fighting her own smile. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

Kanan ducked his head down, stopping just shy of her mouth, and whispered, “Wouldn’t dream of it,” before pressing his lips to hers.

The hand that wasn’t still holding the bottle of soap curled into his sweater, pulling him ever closer. One of his arms wrapped around her back, the other lifting to cup her jaw. A small noise escaped the back of Hera’s throat as his lips parted her own.

But just as he started taking her breath away, he pulled back, tipping his forehead against hers. 

For a moment, they just stood there. And Hera had to admit, the quiet of the ship was nice. It was an even better feeling to realize that she pretty much had the rest of the day free from immediate duties, so she could allow herself to just _be_. 

She could just exist in this moment, held in the arms of the man she loved, even if she hadn’t been brave enough to say it out loud yet. 

Kanan’s thumb was stroking the line of her jaw idly, and Hera sighed contentedly. He kissed the tip of her nose, one cheek, and then the other. And when her eyes fluttered closed at his touch, he pressed a featherlight kiss to each lid, and she trembled in his arms. 

“How about we put that soap to good use?” He asked quietly. 

Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Are you telling me this was all just a ploy to get me in the ‘fresher with you?”

Kanan chuckled, and she smiled as a grin reappeared on his face. “No, it’s just an added bonus.”

“Mm,” she hummed, wrapping her arms around his neck, fingers toying with the end of his ponytail. “Maybe if you ask nicely, dear.”

His head tipped towards her again, voice hushed, “Would you” a teasing brush of his lips against hers, “like to join me for a shower?”

Hera’s heart stumbled in her chest as he pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“ _Please?_ ” he added with a hushed breath, and she was melting into him all over again.

She stretched up on her toes and kissed him firmly, and she felt him rock back on his heels for just a moment with the force of her crashing into him. But Kanan recovered quickly, and she gasped in surprise as he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the washroom.

The door slid shut behind them, and Hera pressed lock on the control panel, just in case any of Kanan’s carefully laid plans to get everyone off the _Ghost_ went wrong, and they were interrupted early. She opened the ‘fresher, setting the little bottle of soap on the shelf, and started the water, letting it warm up.

Kanan was waiting, standing still. It wasn’t quite nervousness—rather, it seemed he was drinking the moment in. It was hard for them to get alone time like this nowadays, so she understood wanting to relish each second with each other.

Hera slipped off her gloves, tossing them on the little bench outside the shower stall. She stepped into his space, and Kanan’s hands automatically came up to rest at her waist. Slowly, reverently, she reached up and pulled his mask off, finally revealing every inch of his handsome face.

It was amazing, even after almost eleven years of knowing him, how beautiful she still found him. Over the years, she’d overheard enough side comments in bustling cantinas to know that other beings attracted to human males found him quite pleasing to look at for his species as well. It sent a little thrill down her spine to know that he was hers.

He could have anyone he wanted in the whole galaxy, and he’d still chosen _her_.

Hera brushed her fingertips across his cheeks and the dark scar that run underneath his eyes and over the bridge of his nose. Then, she traced up to the corners of his eyes.

His hands reached up to gently grasp her wrists, but he didn’t pull her away. Not like he had after Malachor the first couple times she’d touched his face, or the lids of his now unseeing eyes. Hera knew he still had some insecurities and self-doubt about his vision. But he was more comfortable now, becoming more confident with himself than he had in a long time.

Even though she admittedly missed the blue-green color of his eyes, she always reminded herself that he was still here. He was _alive_. Maul could’ve taken so much more than his sight, and she was grateful every day that he had returned to her.

Hera reached for Kanan’s hair tie next, letting the dark locks tumble to his shoulders.

As if it had bolstered him into action, Kanan started pulling off the rest of his clothes and gear. Soon enough they were both stripped down and stepping into the ‘fresher, under the stream of warm water.

A sigh left Hera’s lips almost immediately as she tipped her head back and let water run down her scalp and lekku. Kanan nudged her shoulders and she turned around for him. He started rubbing massaging circles into her shoulders and back, helping relax her stiff muscles until she was practically putty in his capable hands.

They showered in quiet, instead using the silent form of communication they’d developed long ago.

She nearly giggled, though, when they used the soap Kanan had gotten her. Her skin immediately felt softer, the sweet scent filling her nose. It was a practical item, yes. But it was also a luxury they could rarely afford. Normally she would’ve scolded him, but she was so _damn happy_ to not be using the dry bars of Alliance soap. She was nearly giddy with excitement. And for a moment, all of her worries and responsibilities just washed away down the ‘fresher drain.

Kanan was smiling broadly as he helped work the soap at the back of her head and the base of her lekku, like her happiness was infectious. Hera in turn helped him wash him hair and beard, and she relished in the little noises he made as she massaged his scalp.

“Thank you,” she told him as they were drying off ad wrapping themselves up in towels. “I know I said before, but you were right, love. I needed this.”

Kanan tugged her to him, and she knew he was using every second they had to be close to her, because neither of them knew when they would have their next moment of alone time. “You’re welcome,” he said. “I meant what I said before, too. I am _so_ proud of you. This Rebellion wouldn’t be what it is without you.”

“Well,” she started, feeling a dash of courage run like lightning through her veins, “I wouldn’t have gotten very far without you watching my back.”

He smiled—one of his just-for-her smiles that took her breath away. She could practically hear the sly comeback he would shoot back. Instead, he reached his hands up to cup her face. His clouded white eyes were open, but she swore he could see her better than he ever had before.

Kanan leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers once, twice, then a third time, before he whispered, “I need you, too.”


	4. Day 4: trust // vulnerability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Considering how much he’d worried her tonight, he thought it was only fair that he give her an explanation for what had driven him from the Ghost in the middle of the night. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter got a little more delayed than expected, but it's here finally! The trust/vulnerability prompt gave me the perfect opportunity to write some hurt/comfort angst, which is just about one of my favorite things to write. 
> 
> This turned a bit more introspective into Kanan's character, but he was really speaking to me, so I just went with it. I will probably be exploring him and Hera's characters in this introspective/slightly angsty way more in the future, once these fluffier Kanera Week prompts are complete!
> 
> Set about a year after Gorse (though I still haven't read A New Dawn, so though I know about Gorse, the finer details of them meeting I am not sure of yet. But I did read the Kanan comics, so there are a few bits from those in here, but no major spoilers). 
> 
> Enjoy!

Hera woke to the sound of Chopper warbling loudly below deck, followed closely by Kanan snapping at the astromech to be quiet.

She took a slow breath, staring up at the ceiling of her bunk. She debated rolling back onto her side and trying to fall asleep again, but then—

“ _Ow—_ ” a bang loud enough to be heard through her door, and then the hum of the ship’s ramp, “ _Kriff—_ Chopper!”

With an inward sign, Hera pushed back her blanket and threw her legs over the side of her bunk. She straightened her long sleeved shirt and basic sleep pants, tugged on some thick socks, and padded out of her room to see what all the fuss was about. Crossing onto the ramp that overlooked the main cargo bay, she saw that Chopper had lowered the main ramp, and was presently trying to shove Kanan off the ship, into the dimness of the open-air hangar beyond.

They had landed on planet a little late, and while neither Hera nor Kanan were strangers to finishing their supply runs late into the night, they’d spent the last two standard weeks hopping between planets, picking up and delivering supplies on Imperial occupied planets, with hardly a break in-between. They’d refueled the _Ghost_ and decided to call it a night. They planned to head into the spaceport in the morning to finish restocking their own supplied.

Hera had been more tired than she realized, and had passed out in her bunk pretty quick, after telling Chop to stay on watch and uttering a mumbled _good night_ to Kanan.

She’d never even heard Kanan leave the ship, a testament to how tired she’d been.

Hera stepped down the ladder into the cargo bay, Kanan’s head lifting to look at her the same time Chopper’s dome whirled around.

“What’s going on?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow and crossing her arms across her chest.

It was then she noticed Kanan’s split lip and the gash in his hairline that was still oozing blood. A few strands of his dark hair had fallen loose from his normally neat ponytail, nearly camouflaging the injuries. She watched his hand drift up to his side, and though Hera couldn’t see for sure, she suspected he was hiding another wound beneath his jacket.

Hera took a step forward, reaching out, stomach knotting with immediate worry as she wondered what the _fuck_ her partner had been doing in the middle of the night that had him stumbling back bleeding. “Kanan, what—”

Kanan cursed as Chopper ran into his legs again, nearly causing Kanan to lose his balance as he stumbled a step back down the ramp.

“Would you _cut that out_ —” Kanan said sharply.

“Chop,” Hera scolded at the same time.

Chopper raised both arms accusingly in the air, _Wa-wap wa-wup._

Hera rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the droid. “He’s not an intruder.”

Chopper let loose a string of defiant binary.

“He’s just mad because I got off the ship without him noticing earlier,” Kanan said, taking Chopper’s momentary attention lapse to skirt past him and climb up the ramp.

But Chopper was fast, and he immediately swung for Kanan’s legs again.

“Chop!” Hera put herself in-between the astromech and Kanan. “You’ve made your point. Leave him alone.”

A few tense seconds passed, but finally her droid relented. He pointed one hand at Kanan—a warning—before backing off with a grumble.

Hera kept herself in front of Kanan, reaching back almost subconsciously to touch his arm.

“Just close the ramp and go back to keeping watch, okay?” she told the droid. “For _actual_ intruders this time.”

“Hera—” Kanan started to say, but she lifted a hand to stop him.

Hera looked back at Chopper. “On second thought, Chop take the _Ghost_ , land her in one of the other hangers across the port for the night. Just in case Kanan was followed.”

Kanan mumbled behind her, “I wasn’t followed,” at the same time Chopper beeped out a series of especially rude binary that boiled down to, _Kanan is a fucking idiot if he was followed, and deserves to get pushed off the ship._

“ _Hey!_ ” she and Kanan snapped at the same time.

“Watch the language,” she told her droid firmly. “Get the _Ghost_ ready for takeoff. _Now._ ”

“Hera,” Kanan tried again, before she stopped him with a look.

“ _You_ are coming with me to the med bay and you’re going to tell me _exactly_ what the kriff happened tonight.”

Kanan blinked, tongue running briefly along his split lip before he nodded. “Lead the way, Captain.”

-:-

Kanan could feel Hera’s anger permeating the Force around her as he followed her to the _Ghost’s_ small med bay. No—not anger. _Worry_. She was _worried about him_.

“ _Sit_ ,” she ordered firmly once the door slid shut to the med bay.

 _Okay_ , Kanan thought. _Maybe she’s a little angry too._

But most of the emotion flowing around her was concern. After over a year of knowing each other and working together, it shouldn’t have surprised him that she felt that way. It had just been a very long time since someone had cared about him enough _to_ worry.

Kanan did as she asked, hopping up on the med gurney with only minimal wincing as the gashes in his side tweaked. He started carefully pulling off his jacket and untucking his tunic from the waistband of his pants.

He could feel the hum of the _Ghost_ as Chopper started the ship up. Hera washed her hands in the small basin and was gathering cleaning supplies and bacta strips from the cabinet as the ship lifted up, flying them to a safe location for the night.

Though Kanan could still feel Hera’s worry and fear and anger swirling together around her, her face was nearly unreadable. There was only that slight stubborn set to her mouth he’d come to recognize as the face she made when she was focusing on anything but her own feelings.

Force, he didn’t even know if she had any feelings about him or their situation outside of the partnership they’d started to build, and him being a member of her crew. He admired how dedicated she was to the rebel cause, to helping people. But he’d put together that her duty pretty much always came first, no matter what personal feelings she might have.

Maybe it wasn’t fair for him to try analyzing what she was feeling, when Kanan hadn’t even puzzled out what his own feelings meant, or how deeply they ran. She was certainly the most competent partner he’d ever worked with. She was smart, a damn good pilot, great in a fight and at getting out of tight spots. And she was beautiful, of course. He’d be a fool not to see that, but there was so much _more_ to her.

He so desperately did not want to screw this up, whatever it was they had. And he couldn’t help but feel like tonight, by sneaking out without telling her, he’d shaken a bit of the foundation of trust they’d built up in the last year.

A breath shuddered out of him, the pain in his side hitting him sharply.

“Arm up,” Hera instructed, and he noted that her voice was softer than before.

Kanan lifted his left arm as Hera took a small pair of medical scissors and started cutting his tunic, up to the torn sections that were clinging to his bloody side. Quietly, she helped him tug the ruined garment over his head, dropping it in the nearby waste bin. 

As Hera started cleaning the four scratches in his flank—all somewhat long, but luckily fairly shallow—Kanan gripped the edge of the gurney with his right hand, keeping his other arm angled back so she could see the injuries better. She wouldn’t look at him—she hadn’t even asked him what happened despite her insistence up in the main bay of the _Ghost_.

“I wasn’t drunk,” he said, breaking the heavy silence.

He turned his head to look at her as Hera’s hand stilled against his side. She was still avoiding his gaze, and he didn’t know why that hurt more than the wounds in his side.

“I just wanted you to know,” he started, voice low, “that I wasn’t drunk, and I didn’t start the fight. I remember our deal—you know, and I promise I wasn’t drunk or looking for trouble. It seems to habit of finding me, but—”

“ _Kanan_.” Hera finally lifted her head, green eyes bright despite the slight crease of worry between her brows. The corners of her mouth quirked up into the smallest smile, and some of his own fears melted away. “I believe you.”

He exhaled, pressure releasing from his chest as he returned her smile.

On Gorse, when she’d taken him on as a crew member, Hera had made it clear that he couldn’t continue to be so reckless. Which meant no getting blackout drunk or starting cantina fights or causing trouble for the adrenaline rush of it all. They had people counting on them, and the last thing they needed was to draw more attention to themselves from the locals or Imperial troops.

Kanan had readily agreed. Truthfully, he was glad to have an excuse to leave that part of himself behind. The trauma he’d carried with him since that fateful night on Kaller and the years following was still there—it would always be there—but trying to bury it beneath booze and bar fights and nights in bed with perfect strangers hadn’t helped.

About the only thing those years of derelict wandering had been good for was leading him to Hera. Whatever fate he was meant for, he was glad that his path was intertwined with hers.

“Why did you leave?” Hera asked softly, before wincing almost imperceptibly. Like it wasn’t the question she’d been meaning to ask.

For a moment, Kanan was stunned into silence. He watched as she ducked her head, returning to cleaning the blood from his side. He swallowed, the _Ghost_ shuddering like his heart in his chest as it landed.

He had left because he’d woken, sweaty and disoriented with the sound of blaster fire in his ears, and the echoes of voices, shouting, _Concentrate fire on the padawan!_ Even the realization that he was in his cabin on the _Ghost_ hadn’t erased the feeling that his lungs were on fire. The memory of spending weeks running, hiding, feeling more hungry and exhausted and _scared_ than he ever had before in his life was so sharp in his mind…

So, he’d pulled on clothes and snuck off the ship into the fresh air of the night, to try and forget, to try and feel like he could _breathe_ again.

But from all Hera had seen, he’d left the ship and come back bloody. He had to make this better somehow. Kanan tried for a grin, but he could tell it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I was coming back, you know.”

Hera gave a little huff, half a smile on her face as she rolled her eyes. But her voice was slightly shaky as she spoke, “I know that. I just meant—what were you doing out so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh.” Then her features shifted as she realized, mouth dropping as she looked up again. “ _Oh_. Kanan, I’m—sorry. I shouldn’t’ve—”

“It’s okay,” he assured, reaching over to give her arm a light squeeze. “I just needed to walk it off.”

He paused, dropping his hand from Hera’s arm, holding onto the edge of the gurney again.

Hera knew he had nightmares, of course. It was something she’d become aware of their first month working together, when she’d been on watch monitoring their flight through hyperspace. His shouts had alerted her, and he could still remember the fear in her eyes when he’d woken and found her kneeling by his bedside.

Not fear of him, but of what could be causing him so much pain as he dreamt.

She’d asked then, and had been respectful when he told her that he didn’t want to talk about it. That had been at a point where everything was still so new between them, and Kanan had still been trying to pull himself together. He’d still been trying to figure out what to trust her with.

In the past year, he’d told her little bits and pieces. She, of course, knew that he was a Jedi. _Was once a Jedi_. After the Purge, and after cutting off himself from the Force for so long, he still wasn’t sure sometimes if it should be past or present tense. But he had started opening himself up the Force again to help figure it out. 

He’d told her that his master had been killed that day at the end of the Clone War. One Jedi among thousands who were betrayed and struck down.

But that was the extent of it. The nightmares didn’t completely stop, but they had, admittedly, gotten better over the past year. He was pretty sure it had something to do with not being alone anymore.

He knew Hera had questions, just like he had questions about her past. But they’d silently agreed a long time ago to tell each other their stories at their own pace.

Considering how much he’d worried her tonight, he thought it was only fair that he give her an explanation for what had driven him from the _Ghost_ in the middle of the night.

Hera was stitching up the widest of the gashes, and he hissed quietly between his teeth before he said, “My master gave her life to save mine.”

Her hands stopped moving, skin cool against his heated torso. He could feel her gaze on him, but now he was the one who couldn’t bear to look at her. There was the smallest part of him that was afraid she would only see the cowardly young padawan who ran when his master told him to, instead of standing and fighting by her side.

Kanan took a deep breath, eyes focused on the wall opposite him. “I told you that my master, Billaba—Depa Billaba—she was killed—”

“At the end of the war,” Hera finished quietly, resuming her work on his side. “I remember.”

“I haven’t told you how, but…” _I’m ready_ , he thought to himself. _I trust you_. “It’s the part I dream about the most.”

Hera tied off his stitches and clipped the thread. As she washed her hands again, she said, “There were a lot of rumors after the Republic fell, and the Empire rose, about what happened to the Jedi. But there was so much confusion and destruction at that time, and I was still so young, I don’t remember everything.”

Kanan sometimes wished he’d been afforded that luxury. He didn’t know if it was the Force that allowed him to remember in such perfect clarity the fall of the Republic and the Jedi, or if that’s just how his trauma worked. But even now, when so many of the little things had faded from memory, he could still hear his master’s last words to him, and the sound of the blaster bolt that took her life.

“The Jedi were betrayed,” he explained, voice not much higher than a whisper as Hera shut off the water and started unwrapping bacta patches to place on his side. “Our clone unit turned on us.”

He swallowed, as the med bay was replaced by the memory of a campfire under a starlit sky on Kaller.

One moment, he’d been getting teased by Styles and Grey, and then that _feeling—_ something he’d never felt before in the Force. Intense anguish and immeasurable loss, so much fear and confusion wrapping around him and rooting him to the spot.

It was only after that he’d realized it was the feeling of Jedi all across the galaxy dying.

“Kanan,” Hera’s voice broke through his reverie, pulling him back from the edge he’d been teetering on.

He blinked, eyes finding her face. He was white-knuckling the gurney, shoulders locking up. But as he met her green eyes with his own, he found himself feeling grounded, and he slowly came back to himself.

“You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” she said gently.

“I know.” _Force,_ his voice sounded wrecked. He vaguely wondered if he’d been screaming again. But, no. He just didn’t realize how hard this would be. “But I want to.”

And he _did_. He trusted Hera. Somehow, after thinking that he’d lost his faith in people years ago, he trusted her down to his very bones. He could picture himself following her across the galaxy for the rest of his life, and if he was lucky enough for that to be the case…he wanted her to know him. _All of him_. 

“Our clones turned on us,” he repeated, clearing his throat. “I didn’t know what was happening at first, and when they started firing…I couldn’t believe it. My master was already fighting back, killing clones that had been my friends, because they were trying to kill _us_.”

Hera had finished applying the bacta strips to his side. She reached and tugged gently on his left arm, drawing it forward and tucking his hand in between her own.

“I tried to fight with her, but there were too many of them and she—” Kanan gripped Hera’s hand. If it hurt, she didn’t say anything. “She told me to _run_.”

The last word choked out of him, and he could feel his eyes burning. Billaba’s words rang loudly in his ears, _Go! I’ll be right behind you._ He’d known his master was lying when she said it—knew that the odds were stacked against them. But he’d believed her long enough to do as she asked, one last time. His head tipped back, and it felt like his ribcage was tightening around his heart, his lungs.

But he pushed on, “So I ran. I should’ve stayed with her, fought with her, but _I ran_. There were still so many clones, and she turned her back for just a second, and…”

He didn’t realize tears had actually started to fall until one of Hera’s hands swept up to cup his cheek, brushing them away with her thumb.

Kanan dropped his chin, meeting her eyes again. A sense of understanding radiated from Hera’s aura unlike anything he’d felt before, and he knew that she did not take the knowledge of what he was telling her lightly. If he knew her at all—and he was feeling more confident about that with each passing day—he knew she would tuck this information close to her heart, and guard it with her life.

He didn’t know else to thank her for all that she’d done for him, so he just took his free hand and wrapped it around her hand that was still cradling his jaw. He kept his gaze on her as he lifted her hand to his bruised mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of her fingers.

There was no suggestion behind the gesture, no pressuring for her to react. He just wasn’t confident in his ability to speak, so it simply conveyed what words couldn’t.

And, because it was Hera, she understood immediately. “Thank you for sharing this. You didn’t have to, because I know it’s not an easy thing. So, thank you for trusting me with this.”

“You’re the only person I trust with this,” he said, getting past the lump in his throat. And he was surprised by true the statement was.

“Let’s finish cleaning you up,” she said then.

Kanan was grateful for the change of subject. The more he thought about the past, the deeper he would fall into it. Though he’d only suffered through them a handful of times, he’d had panic attacks before, and that was maybe something he wasn’t quite ready for Hera to see yet.

Brushing his hair back from his face, Hera quickly cleaned the smaller cut in his hairline. Her voice was wry as she said, “For not seeking out trouble, you sure managed to find it.”

He chuckled quietly. “It’s a bad habit of mine.”

“What happened?”

“I was actually trying to help people.”

Hera’s brows shot up, eyes sparkling as she saw his grin. “Oh yeah?”

“A couple of goons from a local gang started harassing some bounty hunters in the cantina,” he explained, “I could tell things were going to get ugly, so I was trying to get the other patrons out of the way, and ended up getting shoved in the middle of it.”

Hera was laughing a little, the sound of her voice as magical as it had been the first time he’d heard it, and Kanan swore that he fell a little bit more for her right then.

“This,” he pointed to his face, where she was currently applying a smaller bacta strip to his forehead, “is from getting my face slammed into the bar and punched. And these,” he gestured to his side, “is from a Cathar.”

“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Cathar out this far before.”

“I know,” Kanan agreed. “Bounty hunter, from the look of him. I guess he didn’t like me getting in his way.”

Hera raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief.

Kanan sighed in defeat, rolling his eyes. “Okay, I may have also smashed a bottle over his head. But just remember, I didn’t start the fight! I just got—”

“Caught in the middle,” Hera finished, bemused look on her face. “I know, dear.”

He beamed at her. _Dear_ was a new nickname. He’d nearly run into the wall the first time she’d used it, and now it usually just made his heart feel like it was doing somersaults in his chest.

Hera gave a teasing pat to his cheek, smiling brightly at him. “All done.”

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. He grabbed his jacket and pulled it on until he could shower and put on some fresh sleep basics.

“And Kanan?” she said as she finished cleaning up.

“Yeah?”

“You sneak off like that in the middle of the night again without telling me, I’ll let Chopper shove your ass right off the ship.”

“Yes, Captain.” He laughed a little, knowing that she was teasing. For the most part, anyway. The other part of him knew full well she could make him sleep outside if she wanted to. But he knew the threat came from a place of concern.

Somehow, she had seen him at his lowest and still saw something in him worth caring about, worth trusting. Though there was still so much he didn’t know about her and her past, he had the distinct feeling that those were two things that didn’t always come so easily to her either.

And Kanan vowed to make it worth it.

He followed her back up to the living quarters, and they stopped in the hall between their two rooms.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Hera said after a moment.

Kanan dipped his chin in acknowledgement. “I will.” Exhaustion was catching up to him—it would feel good to shower and then crawl into bed. “Thank you, again.”

She gave him a small, fond smile. There was something so gentle—almost intimate—about it that Kanan nearly stumbled at the sudden swoop of butterflies in his stomach. He was still processing what in all the hells that meant when Hera laid a hand on his arm and stretched up on her toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

She pulled back, hand lingering on his arm just a moment longer. Then, quietly, “Goodnight, Kanan.”

By some miracle, words hadn’t escaped him entirely, and he managed to reply, “Goodnight, Hera.”

She gave him one last look before heading into her cabin, and Kanan was pretty sure the faint smile on her face—the kind that seemed like she’d created it just for him—was his new favorite thing.


	5. Day 5: arguments // agreements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanan is willing to take this bet if it means he can fly the Ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, definitely did not expect to be posting this almost 4 months late, whoops. But what can I say, I've had some changes in my life (mainly starting a grad program), and time lost all meaning this year back in March.
> 
> But better late than never! I am still planning on getting the last two prompts written at some point, but I won't make promises as to when they will be up (because most likely I will say a time, and end up being WAY off). 
> 
> I just love these two a lot, and I hope yall enjoy!

“We’re tied up,” Kanan said, pointing out the obvious. He cocked his head to the side, “Care to make the last round interesting?”

Hera straightened, arching an eyebrow at him. “How so?”

He gave her a wide grin.

They were mid-hyperspace flight, with Chopper currently keeping watch in the cockpit. Kanan had taken the opportunity to get some sparring in with Hera. They sparred as often as they could to keep up the practice, and it was refreshing, actually having a _partner_ again. He had gotten really good at bare-fisted bar brawls in his years of wandering from one backwater planet to another. But practicing with someone who was skilled in hand-to-hand and who presented a challenge was helping his body to remember a lot of skills it had forgotten. It was a nice feeling.

Kanan took a drink from his water canteen, watching Hera do the same before screwing the cap back on. “If I win,” he declared, putting a hand to his chest and barely containing a confident smile, “I get to fly the Ghost.”

Hera laughed. “You’re funny.” She set her canteen back out of reach as they stepped towards each other again in the middle of the main cargo bay.

“Come on,” he urged. “You said you’d let me pilot at least once.”

“I said I’d _maybe_ let you fly her.”

“Yes, but originally it was going to be over your dead body,” he said, spreading his arms. “I think it’s time we take the step from _maybe_ to _yes_ , _Kanan can fly the ship_.”

Hera put her hands on her hips, lekku swaying gently as she gave a little shake of her head. She had taken off her armor and long-sleeved shirt, leaving her in her flight pants and a tank top. He’d shucked off his pauldron and top layer as well, leaving him in a similar get-up of his usual pants and basic tank top. As she paused to consider his offer, he tried not to let his eyes wander to the lithe muscles of her arms and shoulders, to the slight sheen of sweat highlighting her collarbone.

Finally, Hera sighed softly through her nose. “Fine. _But—_ ” she lifted a finger and jabbed the center of his chest firmly. “It will be on my terms, and if you get a single scratch on her, I will kick your ass out the airlock myself.”

Kanan grinned. “You got a deal, Captain.”

He started to fall into ready position for their last match when she said, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Uhh…thank you?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. What do I get if _I_ win?”

“Ah. That.” Kanan stood to his full height again, rubbing the back of his neck. “Good question.”

Hera stepped back into his space, slightly dangerous twinkle in her green eyes that sent his heart stumbling in his chest. “I’ll tell you how this will work,” she said and, _Force_ , he really could listen to her voice forever. “If you win, I will let you fly _my_ ship. Under supervision.”

“Mmhmm,” Kanan hummed with a dip of his head.

“But if _I_ win, you have to give Chopper his oil baths for the next six months.”

Kanan stared at her, slack jawed. Then he blinked and lifted his hands. “That’s not fair.”

She shrugged one shoulder, crossing her arms. “You’re the one who wanted to make things more interesting.”

“Do you know how many times he shocked me last time? _Seven_ , Hera. Seven times. And those are just the ones that managed to hit. He tried for a lot more.”

Hera just gave him an amused smile. “We can call off the bet. But that means you don’t get to fly the Ghost either.”

He groaned, turning a full circle. He wagged a finger as he looked back at her. “This is just mean.”

“Do we have a deal or not, Kanan?”

“You know he also likes to pinch, right?” he said, mimicking Chopper’s robotic arms with his own hands. “And he’s the perfect height to grab me right—”

“ _Kanan_ ,” she cut him off, but the fond look hadn’t fallen from her features.

He also didn’t miss the way her gaze darted briefly down his body, right below his belt, and then back up again. But he didn’t mention it—and even if he had wanted to, she was already moving on.

“Are we in agreement?” she asked.

Kanan exhaled, tipping his head back towards the ceiling. Chopper really only needed an oil bath once a month, unless circumstances required otherwise. He was getting to know Chopper better and better by the day, so if he did lose, he supposed he could handle the droid. It was a risk, but one he was willing to take if it meant flying this glorious ship.

He dropped his chin and met Hera’s eyes, holding out his hand. “I agree to your terms.”

Hera took his hand and shook it firmly as she gave him a rare toothy smile. “Great.”

Given the look on her face, Kanan should’ve known he was in trouble.

Less than five minutes later Hera had her knee against the small of his back, both hands pinned behind him. His cheek was pressed into the cold durasteel of the deck, her other hand wrapped around the back of his neck to keep him there.

She loosened the grip on his neck but pressed her knee a little more firmly into his back to keep him still. Then, he felt the tickle of her warm breath as she leaned down to whisper, “Still a little rough around the edges there, Jedi. Better luck next time.”

He let out a breathy chuckle despite himself, and a moment letter, the pressure released as Hera smoothly released him. She helped him to his feet and he brushed a few stray strands of hair from his face. Hera gave him a triumphant look, her face brightening, skin flushed a slightly darker green from the exertion of the fight. Looking at her, Kanan couldn’t even be upset.

“You really don’t want me flying your ship, huh?” he joked.

“What can I say? She’s one of a kind.”

_She certainly is_ , Kanan said to himself as he looked at his captain. But he quickly tucked that thought away. Instead, he said, “This means we’re still at the _maybe Kanan can fly the ship_ stage, right?”

Hera smiled, touching his arm briefly as she passed. “Yeah, maybe. Someday.”

Kanan watched her go, a smile of his own tugging at his lips. Someday was a step up from never.


End file.
